Who Do We Think We Are?
by thebooksale
Summary: When famous DJ/producer Beca Mitchell has a run-in with the law, she's forced to perform community service at an after-school music program for at-risk youth, where she meets Chloe Beale, the teacher in charge of the program.
1. French Toast

"Fuck!" Beca mutters as she knocks the digital clock off the nightstand, effectively putting a stop to the incessant alarm. _Fan-fucking-tastic. Now I can't even snooze it anymore._ She groans and pulls the white sheet over her head. _It's way too early for this bullshit._

"Boy, you really aren't a morning person, are you?" A female voice startles her. Memories of the night before finally come back in pieces. Beca tries to recall the name of the woman lying naked next to her but comes up empty. _Sasha? Sarah? Sam? Ahh who cares?_

"Nope. Mornings can suck my dick." Beca grumbles. Turns out, it wasn't _too_ early for sarcasm.

"I see," the woman laughs. She has a nice voice. And nice everything in general. Just the way Beca likes her woman: tall, blond, with killer tits. Beca lets her eyes roam over the naked body in front of her and raises her eyebrows in approval, knowing full well that the woman is very much enjoying her intrusive gaze.

"Although… I think I'd like that more." The blond woman finally adds.

"What?" Beca asks, a little annoyed as her eyes leave the woman's breasts to make eye contact.

"Suck your dick." The woman whispers as she gives Beca's shoulder a push, forcing her on her back as she positions herself on top of Beca, her leg in between the brunette's.

Beca places one hand on the back of the blonde's neck and drags her head down forcefully until their lips come crashing. She slips her tongue inside the blonde's mouth and smirks as a moan escapes the woman's throat. Still feeling triumphant, Beca lets her hands travel south. She takes the blond woman's ass in her hands and gives it a firm squeeze before spanking her, eliciting an even louder moan. Her hand moves to the front of the blond woman's body, resting in between her legs. As Beca's fingers come in contact with her wet center, the woman gasps. To Beca's surprise, the blonde grabs both her wrists and pins them down above her head. A mischievous smile plays across the woman's lips as she straddles Beca.

"You first," the woman purrs into her ear before flicking her tongue across Beca's earlobe and lightly biting it.

Beca lets out a sigh. The blond woman is now trailing wet kisses down the side of her neck to the swell of her breasts, nibbling and sucking as she goes, until her mouth closes hot and wet around Beca's now hard nipple. Beca's hands thread in the woman's long, luscious locks, pulling lightly as she feels the blonde's mouth finding its way down her stomach, until her head settled between Beca's legs, taking her time as she plants slow kisses along Beca's inner thighs.

"Oh, come on!" Beca mutters, impatience getting the best of her. She grabs a handful of the other woman's hair and repositions her own hip until the blonde's lips capture Beca's clit, sucking it while her tongue moved in expert circles. The woman moans loudly as Beca bucks her hip upward to allow deeper contact.

"BECAW! GET UP, GET UP, GET UP!" Jesse's annoyingly upbeat voice accompanied by a series of loud knocks jolts both women out of their position.

"FUCK OFF, JESSE!" Beca shouts. She watches in exasperation as the blond woman disentangles herself from her legs and scrambles to wrap the sheet around her torso.

"I'm coming in!" Jesse announces with glee.

Beca throws back her head and mutters a string of expletives. At that moment, she isn't entirely sure who she wants to punch in the face more - Jesse for always being the biggest cock block in the world, or herself for giving him the key to her bachelor(ette) pad. Jesse Swanson is one of the few people Beca has known her entire life. Actually, fuck that, he's the _only_ person who has stuck with her through it all, though admittedly due in no part to her own effort (or lack thereof). Even now, Beca has no idea why Jesse has been so hell bent on being her friend, when even her own parents couldn't give two shit about their big, fucked up, troublemaking dyke of a daughter. In any case, here he stands in her bedroom, the same goofy smile glued onto his stupidly angelic face that hasn't changed since they were five, picking up her clothes off the floor the same way he has picked up the broken pieces of her miserable life.

"Oh, you have company! Hi, I'm Jesse." That goofy grin is at work again as Jesse extends his hand to the blond woman. Just exactly why Jesse feels the need to be so nice to someone he knows he'd never see again every single time was beyond her. Beca rolls her eyes as the woman takes Jesse's hand, her body stiffens as she awkwardly tries to cover herself by holding the sheet in place with one hand.

"Hi. Caroline."

 _Huh._

 _Oops._

"Nice to meet you, Caroline. And sorry to interrupt, but I gotta steal this little ray of sunshine today," says Jesse with an excessive amount of cheerfulness as he ruffles Beca's hair. She groans and slaps away his hand. "I got Beca breakfast, but you can have it. I'll heat it up for you while she gets ready to do some good for the community," says Jesse while shooting his friend a meaningful look.

"Ugh. I hate you so much." Beca whines as she makes her way to the bathroom.

"I love you too!" Jesse's voice echos through the apartment. With her back turned away from him, Beca allows herself a small smile.

"So, are you ever going to stop befriending my one-night stands?" Beca asks sarcastically as she got in to the passenger seat.

"Don't you think she at least deserves a good breakfast before she spends eternity waiting for a call you'll never make?"

Beca rolls her eyes.

"Oh please. We met backstage at a sleazy EDM festival. She knew what she was getting herself into. Besides," she smirks, "I'm pretty sure the night we had was enough for a life time."

"Jesus, Becs!" Jesse laughs. "That's waayy too much information."

"Whatever. That's what you get for giving away my breakfast."

"Nope. Your breakfast's waiting for you in the backseat. I just didn't have the heart to tell her that I knew you'd have a girl in there." Jesse says nonchalantly as he started the car engine.

Beca turns to face her friend and lets out an appreciative smile that hurts her mouth a little.

"Thank you." _What did I ever do to deserve you…_

"You got it!"

"I miss my bike. Feels so weird to be in a car," says Beca as she bit off a mouthful of the warm French toast.

"The word is "safe", Becs. Safe."

"I would roll my eyes if I hadn't been so preoccupied with this tasty treat. This right here is better than my hot date last night."

"I know, right? Aubrey's the best cook!" Jesse's eyes sparkle at the mention of his girlfriend.

"She's a better cook than she is a lawyer, that's for sure."

The words have escaped her mouth before Beca realizes what she was saying. She steals a side glance at her best friend, her mouth twisting into a grimace at the thought of having hurt Jesse yet again. Beca would much rather Jesse dealt with her like any sane person would and screamed and kicked her out of his car and left her alone on the highway, but all he does is sigh and display that sad look on his face as if Beca has kicked a litter of puppies.

"Beca, we've been over this. You were going almost 200mph on the highway while drunk, and almost ran over that cop. You were supposed to get jail time, Becs. The only reason why you got off with community service is because Aubrey's great at what she does."

"I know, I know," Beca draws a deep breath and tries to come to her senses. "I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry. I know I owe her big time, I do."

Aubrey Posen is definitely not Beca's biggest fan, and she is such a stickler for all sorts of rules that Beca is certain the woman has a cactus up her butt most of the time. That said, there's no denying that she's good at everything she does. And that includes making her best friend happy and, more importantly, putting up with Beca for his sake. That alone should give the woman a medal in Beca's book. _And DAMN if this French toast isn't delicious._

"That's right, you do," says Jesse triumphantly, a smug look on his face.

"So why did she decide on this program anyway?" Beca asks, her mouth full of French toast.

"Well, when you didn't show up at the meeting, you kinda left it up to Aubrey, didn't you?"

"Again, very sorry."

"It's a music program, so that shouldn't be too difficult for you. Aubrey's friend runs the program, so she thought you'd be in good hand."

"Jeez. That makes me sound like one of those at-risk kids I'm supposed to be teaching."

"Yeah, I suppose it does," says Jesse with a smirk. "You'd better not give that poor girl any trouble, or Aubrey will kill you."

"Yeah, yeah…" Beca replies absentmindedly. "I'm pretty sure Aubrey's been plotting my death since the first time we met."

Unlike the private school Beca went to, which was housed in some dead man's Victorian manor, Barden High School looks like it was built in the dark age of architecture. Strangely enough, the grittiness of the school's concrete buildings and their small hallways make Beca feel more at ease than any cobblestone or hardwood floor or crown molding ever did. Or maybe all this calmness stems from the fact that Beca Mitchell is no stranger to the principal's office, which she now finds herself in again after five years, albeit in a cheaper, more uncomfortable chair, facing a scruffier-looking, balder principal.

"My name is David Funke, and I'm the principal of Barden High."

 _No shit, bald man._

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Mitchell. I'm sure the children would be very excited to work with you."

"Uh yeah, me too," Beca lies.

"I'm sorry, my son is a huge fan. He would kill me if I didn't get an autograph," says the principal, a big smile plastered on his thin lips as he gives her a sharpie.

"Uh sure. What's his name?"

"You can just write David," he says while rolling up his sleeve and extending his arm toward Beca.

"Are you sure he'd want it on your a… Oh." _OH._

Beca rolls her eyes at the realization. As she scribbles her name across David Funke's arm, Beca could have sworn she heard him squeal. And yet as soon as the principal gets his autograph, he sits back down and clears his throat, and it's business as usual.

"You will be working with Miss Beale, who's a full-time music teacher at Barden High. She's one of our most beloved teachers. This program is her brainchild, and has been successfully implemented for the past two years. There are some changes this…"

"Where is she?" Beca has lost her patience. There is no way this Miss Beale person could be any worse than this rambling, mustachioed man.

"Well, she should be finishing up with a class and will be here any minute now. In the mean time, why don't I tell you a little bit more about our after-school programs?"

Beca groans internally as she tries to block out Principal Funke's monologue. Aubrey's French toast did not prepare her for this snore fest. Beca shifts her focus to the Principal's desk, which is topped with three identical bobble heads of a bird. Absentmindedly, she reaches out and gives one bobble head a push, only to be startled by Principal Funke's hand slapping hers away.

"No!" David Funke raises his voice in protest. "You do not come into a gentleman's office and touch his goose."

 _What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening?_

Beca's eyes widen in disbelief as she tries her best not to curse. This must be Aubrey's way of teaching Beca a lesson - by forcing her to spend 120 hours of her life at the school of freaks.

"Principal Funke!" A redheaded woman greets the principal as she enters the room.

"Ah, Miss Beale! We have been expecting you!" David Funke exclaims excitedly and claps his hand together. Beca wonders for a moment if he's going to give the redhead's entrance a standing ovation as well.

"Hi, I'm Chloe. You must be Beca Mitchell," the woman says cheerfully as she makes her way to Beca and extends her hand. "Very nice to meet you!"

Chloe Beale is a very attractive woman, Beca has to admit. The toned muscles of her arms are visible under the folded up sleeves of her blue buttoned-down; her legs seem to extend for days in a simple black skirt, while red hair and blue eyes make for a rather striking combination. Beca regards Chloe Beale with a smirk before standing up and shaking her hand.

"Pleasure."

Their hands linger for a few seconds as their eyes meet. Chloe Beale smiles, a smile so bright it makes her nose crinkle and her blue eyes sparkle. A smile so sincere it makes Beca cringe, and so she clears her throat, withdraws her hand and looks away, her smirk wiped off of her face.

"Miss Beale, why don't you show Miss Mitchell around and get acquainted?" Principal Funke suggests.

"Yes, sir. Please follow me, Miss Mitchell."

"Uh… Just call me Beca."

"Ok, Beca. Let's go!"

And so Beca follows Chloe Beale down the small hallway, always trailing a step or two behind the redhead in order to avoid eye contact and conversation.

"So basically this program takes place every Tuesday and Thursday from 4 to 6pm in this auditorium," Chloe Beale explains as she holds the door open for Beca. Beca makes her way to the middle of the auditorium and hops up to sit with her legs dangling off the edge of the stage. To her surprise, Chloe Beale joins her, rather effortlessly despite her skirt and heels.

"What do you teach them exactly?" Beca asks.

"Musicals, for the past two years. But this year, due to budget cuts, we can no longer afford sets and costumes, so I will be starting an acapella group instead."

"Oh, right," Beca smirks. "That's, like, a thing now," she says before realizing that it's a thing she will be doing for the next few months. _Oh crap._

"Oh yeah, totes," Chloe Beale continues cheerfully despite Beca's sarcastic comment, her eyes still sparkling. "Aubrey and I were in an acapella group in college, the Barden Bellas, and it was one of the best things that ever happened to me."

"Do you think it will actually work for those kids though? I mean, no offense but acapella is pretty lame."

Chloe's face falls at Beca's comment, much like Jesse's did earlier in the day. Great, now she's kicked a second litter of puppies, and it's not even lunchtime.

"Acapella can be pretty cool. Haven't you seen those Pentatonix videos?" Chloe continues, unwilling to give in. "Besides, I thought with your expertise, we can arrange a great set for the kids."

"Right. Crap."

"Beca," Chloe sighs, "I know this is the last place you'd want to be, but you are here now. You can sulk through your time here if you want - I can't stop you, but wouldn't you rather have some control of what you're doing?"

"Well that's a good point," Beca thinks out loud. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees a smug look taking over Chloe Beale's perfect face. _Wait, what?!_ Beca clears her throat. "So what are those kids like?"

"Like your typical teenagers," Chloe Beale says simply. "But they come from all sorts of difficult backgrounds, which makes it more likely for them to get in trouble. Our job is to lessen that likelihood by keeping them off the street."

"Trust me, you can get in trouble anytime, anywhere, no matter what kind of background you come from."

"Well, then I guess you have some insights into the minds of those youngsters that will make our job a little easier." Now it's Chloe's turn to smirk. And why exactly is Beca grinning after being taken a dig at?

"Alright. When do I start?"

"Next Monday, 4 to 6pm. We'll be preparing for Tuesday's class. You will also see me on Wednesday at the same time to prepare for Thursday's class. This will be our set schedule for the semester."

"What if I can't make it sometimes because of my work?"

"We can reschedule Mondays and Wednesdays if necessary, but I suggest you free up your schedule for the days when the kids are here."

"Fine. Is that all?" Beca asks as she hops off the stage, followed by Chloe.

"Yes, I believe so. Let's exchange numbers in case you have questions or one of us needs to reschedule."

Beca takes a brief pause to consider the preposition before slowly taking out her phone.

"Listen, this number…"

"I won't give it to anyone."

"Thanks."

"In fact, I won't even put down your name at all," says Chloe nonchalantly as she types on her phone before giving it to Beca.

"French Toast?!" Beca stares at the screen, her eyebrows raised in amusement as she puts in her digits.

"You smell wonderful!" Chloe Beale proclaims with a grin.

"Alright, Red," Beca smiles at the name of her new contact.

"I have to run to a class now, but it was nice meeting you, French Toast," Chloe takes a step closer, her hands traveling down Beca's arms before pulling her closer by her wrists. "I think we're gonna be very fast friends."


	2. The Bat Family

If you _really_ think about it, Beca Mitchell is pretty much the real life version of Batman. Fuckload of money? Check. Brooding? Check. Parents who are no longer in her life? Check. Emotional intelligence of a walnut? Check. That's four out of four. And since Beca is Batman, it would only be natural to assume that Jesse is her Robin, right?

False.

See, you can cut the sexual tension between Batman and Robin with a knife. Such a thing could never exist between Beca and Jesse. Beca considers Jesse to be her Alfred Pennyworth - the loyal, charming in a sexless way, elderly butler. Jesse's the person who cracks stupid jokes and brings her food and drives her around and gives her advice she appreciates but never follows. To put things simply, Jesse is the father Beca never had.

The question remains: who _is_ the Robin to Beca's Batman? Who's the person jumping around in skimpy outfits, cleaning up Beca's mess?

She supposes the title would have to go to Stacie Conrad. Beca and Stacie met for the first time at boarding school. Considering how it was a school for girls, despite the fact that Beca liked to put Jesse in dresses and call him her twin sister when they were younger, Jesse wasn't allowed inside. Her relationship with Stacie started off out of pure convenience. Beca just got dumped by her first girlfriend, and Stacie was feeling the sexual frustration that was an integral part of the Catholic boarding school experience. So when they put Beca and Stacie in the same room, it didn't take long for the two to fall madly in bed. But as enjoyable as the sex was for them both, neither was able to contain their conquests within the four walls of the room they shared. Eventually, Beca and Stacie arrived at the mutual decision to remove "with benefits" as the qualifier for their friendship. Stacie became Beca's partner in crime. Literally. There wasn't a single boarding school rule that Beca and Stacie didn't break together. And yet, despite the massive amount of time Beca and Stacie spent in detention and in the principal's office, both had managed to avoid suspension, Beca by having her father on the board of trustees, and Stacie by being a borderline genius.

Beca's and Stacie's life of crime took a different turn a few months before their high school graduation. As in love with music as Beca was, she was completely devoid of ambition and fully prepared for a life as a struggling club DJ. Once Stacie secretly posted an obscene number of her mixes online, however, Beca quickly became an internet sensation. Soon enough, the contracts started coming in and Beca's phone was blowing up everyday with invitations to headline festivals and collaborate with artists whose posters were on her walls. It was hard for Beca to stay mad at Stacie for sharing whatever's left of her soul to the world after that. And since Jesse wasn't around with his bedazzling personality to distract other people from Beca's naturally gloomy aura, the position of Beca Mitchell's manager fell into the hands of Stacie Conrad. Whatever revenge Beca couldn't exact on Stacie at the time for sharing her music without permission, she made up for by throwing one publicity shitstorm after another at her manager. Five years have gone past since Beca's claim to fame, but her quest for revenge is still going strong, just like her friendship with Stacie Conrad.

"So, how was your first day?" asks Stacie after popping the beer cap open with her mouth. Stacie Conrad can do just about anything with her mouth.

"The principal screamed at me for touching his goose after asking for my autograph," says Beca matter-of-factly as she plops herself down onto the couch.

"Are you fucking serious?" Stacie laughs.

"Wouldn't be able to come up with something so ridiculous if I tried."

"True. But how did it go with Chloe?"

"It's…" Beca opens her mouth to speak but something hits her. "Wait a minute. How do you know about Chloe?"

"Aubrey told me when we met for brunch," Stacie shrugs.

"You met Aubrey for brunch? You fucking traitor!" screeches Beca.

"Jeez. Calm down. We're all working for you. Besides, Aubrey's not that bad. I like her."

"Did you sleep with her?" Beca's smart mouth is at work again.

"Jesus, woman," exclaims Stacie, "what is wrong with you?"

"Relax, I was kidding. Though I can't believe she won you over with brunch. You would think me sleeping with you was enough for you to be on my team for life."

"Sorry, Shorty," Stacie laughs, "but Aubrey's food is better than sex."

"I would be offended if that wasn't so true," agrees Beca, "and for _you_ to say that..."

"So, how's Chloe?"

"She's hot," Beca smirks, "like, really really hot."

To Beca's surprise, Stacie doesn't look amused.

"Don't even think about it," Stacie warns, her voice way too stern for someone who proudly calls her vagina a "hunter."

"Why not?"

"First off, you'll be seeing her four days a week. It'll be awkward. And second, Aubrey will actually kill you."

"I'm not scared of Aubrey," Beca lies as she sits up straight, as if trying to make herself look taller.

"Yes you are," Stacie smirks. "We all are. It's probably for the best. The woman's always right."

Stacie pauses to take in the spectacle that is Beca's dramatic eye-roll before continuing.

"Anyway, don't try to make Chloe one of your one-night stands. And not only because of Aubrey. It's just not good for business. You need to take this community service thing seriously. We need some good press after that DUI stunt you pulled."

"Ugh. Fine," Beca whines. "I'll behave. But I can't make such promise for Miss Beale," she replies with a wink.

"Oh, don't worry," says Stacie quickly before taking a sip of her beer. "Just be yourself. She'll stay away alright."

Beca certainly isn't above throwing scathing insults her friends' way in order to express love, but this time she can't seem to come up with one single response. Perhaps her sleepless nights have finally caught up to her. Or perhaps, they both know that Stacie's words have hit too close to home.

Jesse had barged in to Beca's apartment again today to drag her out of bed. After sneaking out from a Hollywood starlet's penthouse at 4am, all Beca wanted was to go into hibernation mode for the next five hundred years, but no such luck. It's her first day of actual community service, and Jesse is the human alarm clock that constantly gets on her nerve. Worse than that, he's an alarm clock that doesn't even have a snooze button. The only solace Beca gets out of Jesse's constant breaking and entering is the promise of food - delicious, homemade, organic food from Aubrey Satan, _ahem_ , Posen's kitchen. And so Beca swallowed her frustration quickly with the aid of the fanciest mac and cheese she'd ever tasted and let herself be chauffeured to Barden High School in Jesse's sensible, all-American Japanese car, daydreaming about two months from now, when she would get her license back and be able to ride her motorcycle down the highway, while Jesse said something about Aubrey and film scores and working late.

It is 3:45pm on a Monday and Beca Mitchell is officially early for the first time ever. Perhaps it's her own fault for eating her lunch too quickly, though Beca suspects there's something in Aubrey's food that's meant to turn those who eat it into high-strung efficiency robots. Whatever it is, it's thanks to Aubrey Posen that Beca is standing in the middle of the auditorium by herself, unsure of what to do with her time. She had, in the midst of grumbling and cursing at Jesse, forgotten to grab her headphones on the way out. Without a distraction, fifteen minutes by herself suddenly feel like eternity. Beca frowns as she scans the run-down auditorium. In the middle of the small stage stands a shiny grand piano. Beca Mitchell is no expert when it comes to classical instruments - she's more of a midi controller and keyboard kinda girl, but it doesn't exactly take much expertise to know that a public school like Barden wouldn't be able to afford the Steinway in front of her. Beca sits down on the stool and lets her fingers run over the keys. The keys have a certain heft to them, especially in comparison to her keyboards, but it doesn't take long for Beca to get used to the feel and start playing and singing her favourite song.

"You shout it out,

But I can't hear a word you say

I'm talking loud, not saying much"

The acoustics of the room is much better than Beca has expected. Beca closes her eyes.

"I'm criticized but all your bullets ricochet

You shoot me down, but I get up"

* * *

Note: Okay, so I know it's been forever. This isn't actually a new chapter as I wrote it pretty much immediately after the first chapter. I thought I'd wait for a while and write more before uploading the new chapter, but that never happened because I'm a lazy bum. Anyway, here's an incomplete chapter that should've been posted a long time ago. Thank you all so much for reading this fic! Your kudos and comments mean more than you think :) As always, yell at me on tumblr darth-moeder


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